


Until The Day I Die

by Ally_Futuras



Series: Elysium [6]
Category: DmC: Devil May Cry
Genre: F/M, Happy late Halloween, I have emotions friends, i'm still alive
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-11
Updated: 2020-11-11
Packaged: 2021-03-09 23:27:56
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,116
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27514585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ally_Futuras/pseuds/Ally_Futuras
Summary: Dante wants to grab the young boy and hold him close, hug him and never let go. Dante wants to do many things. He wants to tell Nero everything. It’s what the boy deserves. But Dante wonders, is it what he needs now?
Series: Elysium [6]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1429837
Comments: 1
Kudos: 3





	Until The Day I Die

Dante wasn't sure when he'd fallen asleep. He must have been screaming because Nero was at his side, his face wet with fear and worry. In that moment, his eyes looked so blue, so pure, and Dante felt guilty for having scared the poor boy. He kept his distance, his left hand holding his right one close to his stomach. Still so uncertain of himself. Somehow, within his broken soul and saddened face, Nero looked beautiful. Broken and beautiful. Dante suddenly understood what Kat went on about beauty all those years.

Quiet, yet determined with his words, Nero asks if Dante is alright. His voice is so soft and beaten, it reminds him of Kat. He's nothing like _them._ Nero was _nothing_ like Dante or his brother. It was almost relieving. She'd done a good job, somehow, in their wretched world.

_He was raised with love._

"I'm alright," Dante lies, he can feel the sticky sweat on his face. His throat hurts and he feels a pang of guilt and remorse just watching the young boy stand there all alone. His hair is a sloppy mess of white, pricking at his eyes, though he doesn't seem very sleepy. He looks scared. Dante is reminded of his youth, when his dreams regularly tormented him. _Killed him,_ as she'd say _._ All that seemed like ages ago now. He clears his throat and wipes his face, but the emotions are still forcing their way through his chest.

When was the last time he'd have a nightmare so severe?

It was no use trying to hide what he felt. The pain. The agony. He tries to look anywhere else but Nero, ashamed of his own appearance. How loud had he been screaming? What exactly had he been dreaming of? His hands refused to stop shaking, and the tightness of his throat only seemed to worsen. Dante felt like death itself. Nero at least has the decency to look away, though he steals a few glances toward Dante in curiosity. He mumbles out a few words which Dante barely catches, _"-never seen a man cry before."_

He should probably get the kid back into his own room. _Her old room._ But Dante can't bring himself to do it. He's afraid to move, afraid to even speak. Instead, he inspects the boy. He looks so much like himself, though he _feels_ like her. His timid, gentle nature, all reminiscent to Kat herself. The way he _cares_ about Dante, a stranger who could easily end his life if he felt like it. Nero, kind Nero, so oblivious to the strength within him.

Refusing to wipe away any more tears, Dante takes notice of something familiar in the young boy's grasp, held closely to his stomach. Something he'd last seen years ago. "What's that you got there, kiddo?" Dante croaks, a light sniffle escaping his nose as he wipes away the remaining wetness.

Nero finally looks up, embarrassed and unsure of himself. He's a bundled mess, dragging a blanket over his shoulders. He seems so much like a boy, Dante thinks. A _normal_ boy. If only.His hands are curled into little fists, held as closely as possible to his belly. His left, still presently hiding his right, and Dante only wishes he could see it more clearly. _One step at a time,_ he thinks.

Suddenly, the whole scene feels so private. It feels _real._ Dante understands the young boy's nervousness. Nero had never seen Dante in such an emotionally compromised state before. He'd never _really_ seen Dante at all before. Only for a few hours at a time at most.

Dante can recall the few days he'd visit when Nero was younger. The boy always hid behind furniture and door frames, thinking Dante would never catch him sneaking a glance at the stranger within his home. It was only his own fault that Dante never took the time to reach out to the young boy.

Though now he stood, bare footed, near Dante's bed. Afraid, yet unwilling to leave his side. It felt like something only a father and son should experience. It was new. Frightening, yet welcomed just the same.

Holding his left hand out, Nero displays a lone piece of ribbon, "I'm sorry, I shouldn't have taken it."

The act alone tears Dante to shreds. There was no reason for Nero to feel guilty, yet just the same, he acted as though he'd robbed a bank. Dante wants to grab the young boy and hold him close, hug him and never let go. Dante wants to do many things. He wants to tell Nero _everything_. It's what the boy deserves. But Dante wonders, is it what he needs now?

With a smile, Dante pushes his hand back down. It's cold, so he takes hold of both his small fists in one hand, giving a reassuring squeeze. Dante was never able to give Kat the comfort she deserved, it was time he made right by it. He does everything in his power not to break down then and there. "No, it's yours, kid."

Nero seems content enough with that answer, the slightest grin marking his face. He keeps glancing down and back up at the older man, shyly. Dante seems to get the message, it amuses him. Nero is like a puppy. Letting go of his hands, Dante pulls back his blankets to make space for the boy who happily jumps into bed. The coldness of his small body is refreshing though worrying. Dante keeps his distance from the boy who curls into himself. "You're freezing. I might kick ya' out," he jokes.

"The other room is really cold," Nero admits, holding his ribbon closely as though it were a stuffed animal.

_Always so cold._

He's facing Dante who refuses to look over at him, focused instead on his own thoughts. Nero has an idea on what the older man might be thinking of. His mother lectured him time and time again on the matter. Dante had helped Nero in many ways that day alone, maybe he could finally do the same.

"You shouldn't keep your feelings hidden," he lectures uneasily, glancing up at Dante who continues to stare at the ceiling, "She told me that. So... how do you feel?"

It was no secret to Nero, Dante hadn't cried at all since the previous day. Nero had witnessed a few saddened glances here and there, but no solid tears. He wondered what that must have felt like, not being able to properly mourn in the efforts to be strong. _Be strong,_ Nero thought. How many times through the years had he been forced to be strong? How many times in the past few hours? It was sad in the most depressing way. It killed him.

Dante can only nod silently. Never in his life had he been asked how he felt. His eyes are glossy, the tears have subsided yet the emotions remained. A smile finally blossoms on his lips just as he turns his head, positive of what he feels in that moment, "I feel better now that you're here. How do _you_ feel?"

The boy forces a smile. He knows exactly what he feels. The shameful thing about it, Nero isn't sure whether he deserved it or not. Part of him believes, so cruelly believes this was just a part of his life's plan. It was just the way things went sometimes. He holds his ribbon closely, its damp now from the humidity of his own breath, "I just... I feel like I _died_."

The tears have begun to form in his eyes and Dante wants so badly to take away all the pain. _Me too, kid._ He isn't sure what to do, so he does nothing. Dante watches as a few stray tears stain the boy's soft cheeks. He's strong, but he's just a boy. There's nothing Dante can say that will make him feel any better. Only, what Nero says next, Dante isn't sure he was ever ready to hear.

Wiping his nose, Nero collects his thought, "And I don't want anything to happen to you either."

It had been years since Dante had to look out for anyone other than himself. And it had been even longer since anyone had even cared whether he disappeared entirely or not. Yet laying right beside him, searching for answers of which Dante only wished he knew, Nero recognizes a simple fact. They were in this together. Not because they had no one else, not because it was what was best for them, but because they _wanted_ to be together.

Dante turns to better look at the boy, a newly found determination in his chest,"We'll be alright. We have to be."

"Just don't leave." Nero is almost begging now.

 _Not like she did._ Dante could never leave him. There was no way in hell that he would ever abandon Nero. Not again. His eyes are no longer damp, but his cheeks have stains of forgotten tears. A part of him is thankful for the darkness, unsure whether Nero would be embarrassed over his crying. Either way, it no longer mattered. He continues talking to Dante, or what he thinks might be him, speaking into the dark in front of his face, "I'm sorry I wasn't- I don't think I want to be strong anymore."

Dante regrets many of his past actions. He regrets never staying, never giving the kid a chance, to get to know him. He regrets having not made _her_ stay _._ He regrets not being able to make things right with his brother. Though now, he is given the chance to do the right thing. And there was no way he would ruin this chance.

His hand reaches forward, pushing back the untidy mess of hair on Nero's face. Dante is reminded of his own mother, comforting him in his youth, "You won't go through this alone, kid. You'll have me. We stick _together."_

For fucks sake, he was just a _boy_. He wasn't supposed to be strong. He wasn't supposed to _survive._ Nero was supposed to _live._ He was supposed to live with no worry and no pain. He was supposed to be just a boy. Not a monster, not a beacon of hope for their future or a catalyst for any unknown plan. He was just a _boy._

And Dante refused to put any weight on his young shoulders anymore.

"From now on, let me be strong for both of us."

Nero nods, wiping away the stains across his cheeks. He can't help but smile, feeling Dante's warm hand across his forehead. Nero feels safe. It didn't matter, their unknown relation, that could wait for another day. In that moment, they were simply two lost souls in search of comfort and reassurance of which they'd finally found. He'd taken her smile, Dante notices, such a sad little thing. But it was genuine. It felt _real._ For the first time in a long time, Nero feels at home.

"When I was a kid, I liked to sleep during the day." Dante has moved away once more, gazing at the ceiling. His skin has a tint of blue and pink, the oncoming sunrise has started through the window. He's reminded of his childhood, and feels that Nero deserves the comforting thought as well, "This was after... well, it was when I was alone. I-"

"You felt safe with the light," Nero says. He's curled on his side, a stray beam of light hitting his cheek, but he's enjoying the warmth, "Mom- I mean... well, she told me about that. But she never told me why."

The thought of Nero being told such stories makes Dante happy. He isn't sure when he'd last been so happy in his life. There's no use in pondering over such thoughts. Instead, Dante basks in the content of the present. "I was scared," he admits finally. It should have hurt him in some way, but it doesn't. Dante feels relieved, "I was scared for a while but couldn't accept it. I didn't want to. I was so lost."

Nero grins, knowing full well of their morning to come, filled with a comfortable sleep. He was never the best at keeping his emotions hidden, good or bad. "Promise you'll stay to the end, Dante."

The words hit Dante differently now than years before. Though, instead of saddening him, he feels the warmth of something akin to adoration. He adores the young boy, something Dante would have rejected entirely had it been a few weeks ago. He smiled tenderly, ready for sleep, "I'll stay forever, kid."

"And a day?"

"And a day, angel face."

**Author's Note:**

> Happy late Halloween! I had no business writing something new when I have other unfinished work (as well as actual work in a few minutes) but alas, my emotions persisted. This is probably the only one shot I will directly admit to being a mini sequel to my other "one shot" with Nero in the second chapter of Forever and A Day. Hope ya like it!
> 
> Comments and questions always appreciated!


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